We're Better Alone, Jack Frost
by Simple Yet Clever
Summary: You aggravate me. Irritate me. You get on my last nerve, you know. Then...then why can't I get you out of my head, Jack? Why do I find myself thinking about you're mischievous smirk and sly gaze when I should be finishing my English homework? Honestly, we're better alone, Jack Frost...but...I adore you, so I hope you're listening. (AU Highschool fic)
1. What About Her?

**First off. Yes, this is another Jelsa High School fanfic; But, we had a vision to try to do something amazingly creative and different. We are hoping to any who read will like this story as much as we LOVE writing it. Honestly, We're like squealing about this story everyday...**

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**Prologue: What About Her?**

How do you fit a puzzle piece into a puzzle already finished?

I'll tell you how.

You don't.

My name is Jackson Overland Frost—or well that's what I was told my name was, but that is complicated story for a less complicated point in time. It's been about a month since my transfer to Burdelle High, as a senior I might add.

I don't really belong here and it becomes that much more painfully evident during lunch. I don't want to compare this high school to the clichés of "A Typical Teenage Movie", with scripted hierarchy's that puts ever person, place, and thing in their specific territory, but...I am left with no choice really.

As I sit here, secluded under the shade of a sturdy oak, I watch through wide glass windows at everyone settled cozy in the cafeteria like a show on a stage. Everyone routinely sits in the same seat, with the same people, doing the same thing. Funny how high school plays out like some sort of grand story with condescending actors and a flimsy plot line, dedicated to some invisible goal that not one player can grasp. It is the same thing everyday.

Is it weird that I've picked up on daily habits of people I haven't even said a word to?

For example, the group of obnoxious tools calling for the center of attention, occasionally causing a bit of a ruckus by throwing free shots with their uneaten food into nearby trashcans.

Or how about the blonde bimbo army that is seated at the table to the right, fawning over the tools immature antics like they were Prince Charmings in the making.

Then there's freshman that all cling to each other, still unsure and confused about what and what not to do.

Each person plays a specific role making up a dysfunctional picture with no real direction. Each action, good or bad, impulsive or carefully thought out, is scrutinized and judged by the other players. Everything has an inner, more personal motive.

Except for her.

Day in and day out I see tables filled, overflowing with the sweaty bodies of students who are still trying to accomplish impossible task at keeping the table functional. The hustle and bustle of words and actions. The screams of delight or anger, all spinning violently into a storm of incomprehensible chaos.

Except for her.

She sits like a queen on a thrown, over looking all her subjects with so much poise and elegance you would've mistaken her for a fairy-tale princess.

Her pale face maintains a constant and perfect expression. Never smiling, not frowning, just…blank. Shockingly so. Almost expressionless.

It looks as if she has a wall around her vicinity. No one really approaches her. They shy away from her seldom stoic glances. She's in utter solitude as she sips a blue thermos and flips through thick books with no illustrative covers.

They—and by they I mean everyone—calls her the "Snow Queen". Of course I've heard "Ice Bitch" too, but the first was a bit more popular if not a tad more flattering. The name, however, captures her essence essentially well thanks to the cold and distant vibe emanating from her presence. The only thing I know about her is that she voluntarily isolates herself, interaction was limited to authority figures only.

I don't know what grade she was in, what classes she took, what little friends she might have. I don't even know her real name and yet everyday I sit here , trying to answer some of these questions myself.

Why?

I don't really know. Curiosity, I can only assume. There just happens to be someone else who purposely separated themselves from the entanglement of this social establishment, already notorious and recognized for it. She could've been another fair-haired damsel enjoying herself with the companies of those alike, and yet there she stationed herself at the end of the cafeteria, only having to shoot a look at someone to get them to back off and leave her alone.

Why'd she want to be alone?

I already had my reasons to be alone. She probably has her own reasons. That was no secret.

But, oddly enough, I found myself wanting to know them.

Perhaps, just as I do, the mysterious Snow Queen liked being alone too.

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	2. Routine is my life

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**Chapter 1: Routine Is My Life**

In dreams, I'm gracefully gliding across stainless frozen ice, twirling perfectly like a ballerina, bounding and leaping. I perform miraculous stunts that no one would ever be capable of doing.

Those dreams have to become a reality.

Figure skating had quickly become my entire life. Everything else seems unimportant. This though...this is the one thing I _have_ to excel at. Already I have successfully managed to continue to accumulate the skill over a set number of years and transformed it into something stunningly beautiful.

But…I am now eighteen years of age.

I feel as if the opportunity for me to amount to something more than just a successful skater is slipping right through my dainty little fingers.

Already, I've given up everything a normal girl should have at my young adult age. Free time, parties, dances, vacations, even friends. All of these things, and more, are simply distractions trying to yank me away from my goal and aspirations that continue to press at the forefront of my mind.

It's Olympics or nothing.

Anna, my little sister who I love more than anything, doesn't seem to quite understand the sacrifices I've needed to make and the justification that accompanies them. From a young age I've been figure skating, my novice abilities developing into something more substantial and finally into something so…extravagant! I

Anna though, never really had the coordination or drive to keep up with me.

When she wanted to play, I had to refuse. I needed to finish school work fast enough that I could go back to the rink.

I do, however, regret pushing her away. But, really, what else could I do? She has friends now to fill in the void I'd left there. She doesn't need me. I wasn't her crutch. If anything she was mine.

My only friend.

Dad was always on my side of things and he was an extraordinary coach; used to be a professional Hockey player, in fact. Terrible at figure skating but he aided me in the journey to reaching my ultimate goal that I would never, ever, forget. Mother was more of a business executive, co-CEO of Aren Corps. Along with my father, of course.

But even if he wasn't here anymore and even if mother was gone too, I'm determined to keep my mind on track. The plans they've already set for me when I was so young must be completed through the end. No questions asked.

Anna would never really understand this, but she doesn't have to. She doesn't need me. I am confident she'll do just fine with whatever she has set out to do. She doesn't need to live by an already outlined destiny. Anna was free.

"-even listening?" The familiar and comforting voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I blinked a couple of times before noticing Anna waiting patiently over to the said with a confused yet concerned look on her face.

I stared.

Giving a weak and hesitant smile, she spoke. "So, uh, hey…hi." It was a sheepishly and awkward greeting, something said needlessly to fill the empty space. She stood oddly with her arms cradling disorganized papers, folders, and notebooks as if she was struggling with question on what exactly was supposed to be done.

"Hey, Anna" I finally addressed, my tone sounding a bit half-hearted. Our conversations were scarce and empty. We no longer had anything to say to each other. Our relationship had dissolved into something more along the lines of long distance cousins who briefly acknowledged each other at the big Thanksgiving gathering. Clinical but polite.

"Just wanted to see if you're going to the rink again today is all." She aimlessly questioned.

I was instantly aware that she knew the answer to that statement. Of course I was going to the rink. That's the only place I ever do go anymore.

"Yes."

This was almost routine, two minutes after the final bell rang to signal the end of the school day, Anna would sneak up next to me and follow in-step, seeing if I'd be going straight to the rink. I was still unsure why she asked everyday. As if my answer was going to change, going to become something different or more mundane.

"Right, just wanted to make sure though. Should I tell Olaf to meet you at the rink today then? It is his scheduled tutoring day with you, you know." She thankfully reminded me.

How could I have forgotten?

Our next door neighbor, a small little fellow in the third grade named Olaf, came over every Tuesday and Thursday for monitoring tutoring. These were the days I'd have to stay late at the rink to catch up on missed time. All homework was to be done, in advance, at school so I wouldn't waste any after school and weekend time.

"No, I'm stopping at the rink succinctly, I'll be home just in time for the session." I informed.

My pace then sped up, and I could faintly hear her giving me a send-off of 'see you later', but I continued on like it was nothing. I only had an hour before I'd need to rush home, the rink was just a couple blocks down the road, I wouldn't even need to drive..

…

The air outside was fresh, brisk, and chilly.

Perfect.

I embraced the homey and comfortable whether. My thin long-sleeve fit and flare powder blue dress complimented the weather so nicely, the grey cable knit cardigan and cool-colored printed scarf were almost a bit too toasty for me, but I managed.

I only assume my tolerance for colder temperatures was much more higher than others due to the fact I've spent most of my life inside a chilled room equivalent to a freezer. I've adapted to the cold to the point where I needn't a jacket at 46 degrees.

Although my tolerance for heat was very, very low. Crank the temperature up to a comfortable 70 degrees and I'm suffocating.

Enough of my bouts with weather though.

By now, I was halfway to the rink, following the path that has accustomed itself into my daily routine. But there was something different this time.

Usually, I don't see anyone even charting this way. It is a bit out of the way. Today, though, it seemed someone was ahead of me.

Strange, definitely strange. I guess it could have been normal but all I could think about was how odd this was. Odd in the fact being the time of day and the fact that not much was out past the rink. An apartment complex I was pretty sure.

I could see a backpack, so I inferred this was a student who had also just gotten out of school.

What stood out was the bright blue hoodie they were wearing, bluer than a clear sky. A royal, deep, powerful blue that anyone would recognize and notice.

And come to think of it, I've seen this exact shade of blue before.

But they were so far ahead of me, even squinting wouldn't help me figure out who this was. Then again, I didn't really pay attention to who anyone at Burdelle High was. It almost surprised me that I remembered seeing this article of clothing, I've never been so observant before. It's a fatal flaw.

I continued to watch the lone and mysterious figure saunter down the sidewalk, until the silhouette eventually turned the corner.

Shaking my head, I realized I needed to forget about all that and focus. I had only 47 minutes to get some practice time in, I had experienced my first delay in my schedule all because I was losing sight of what was actually important.

My skates were neatly locked away in my membership locker. I was an old star-student, (I coach myself, feeling no need in paying for private lessons from a professional).

I abruptly entered, waving my hand to the regular counter-person as my only greeting before dashing into the locker room and switching to my skates.

I was on the ice in two minutes flat, allowing me now only forty-five minutes of practice time. I'd need to make up that ten minutes later on along with the extra hour taken up by little Olaf.

"Music, Elsa?" Asked a worker.

I nodded for an answer, and soon enough a simple melody flowed through mediocre speakers.

"Okay." I whispered, taking a deep breath, shutting my eyes and letting the melodic tune swirl through me. "Make it count." I silently encouraged, eyes popping open and letting myself go.

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	3. My Legal Guardians

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**Chapter 2: My Legal Guardians**

Everyday, more reliable than clockwork, she walks this path.

It is a repeated behavior, as if the threat of deviating from that set imaginary path somehow holds consequences far greater than the allure of change could tempt. The moment the school bell rings, her slender frame meets with the equally slender build of another girl. Just as I have yet to learn the true name of the infamous Snow Queen, the name of her counterpart is also a factor I do not know. A brief exchange of words is preformed, as if rehearsed over and over again, and the two girls part.

The younger one dissolves into the swelling crowd while Snow Queen makes a swift yet graceful exit out of the building. Her path across the school yard intercepts my own path—not that she'd know though. I am not someone you really would ever notice. My third day here is when I saw her, in fact I practically ran into her. We exchanged no words upon the encounter, she seemed focused on something I couldn't see, and we went our separate ways. I doubt she even remembers.

Shrugging my shoulders up to my jaw, I force my hands deeper into my jacket pockets and purged the thoughts of her away. She was just a girl. A bit of a strange one, but only a girl. I had bigger things to occupy my thoughts with.

I guess it would have been a bit more practical to catch a ride back to the place I was staying at since it seems to be frowned upon to exist in this weather. But I rather enjoyed the cold. Besides, a prolonged arrival home was something I made sure to accomplish each day. I say home, but that is not really what it is. Its a charity program, really. They call it a "Guardian Program." I call it "Something that Lets my Three Big Philanthropists Sleep Better Knowing They Helped Someone in Need Program." Means the same thing.

I live in an apartment, just a couple blocks from my current high school. It's not my apartment, but rather it belongs to one of my "Big Brothers". I think his name is Nicholas St. North officially but everyone just calls him North. His father owns some big toy franchise and pays for the extravagant rent. Sometimes a kid, who seemed to be a bit younger than me, stopped by ever so often. I think his name was Sandy. The other two are college kids who participate in the program for troubled teens. I don't really know why. I don't really care. I just want out.

I hopped off the curb and made my way down the street, counting the apartments as I walked. North's was the sixteenth in a long line of symmetrical formality. Every apartment, though expensive, looked very much alike. I was expected to report the activities I had participated in that day as well as any others I might plan on having later on into the evening. If I failed to abide by this rule, I will be forced into another year of reform school. I had no plans of going back there.

Sighing, I turned a corner and tallied off three more apartments before stopping in the stooped parch of North's sanctuary. It was decked out in Christmas attire—garnish, fake snow, a 'Tis the Seasons' sign. All the was missing were lights and a singing reindeer. North always liked to decorate a bit early. If it were up to him it would be up all year.

Good thing it isn't.

I climbed up the steps, skipping over the middle one, and rapped my knuckles on the warn wood three times before entering. Upon stepping over the threshold, I was greeted with the pleasant scent of something delicious and the sprinkling sound of laughter.

They must all be present.

Great.

I shut the door quietly and shrugged off my bag, letting it fall to the wood floors with a muted thump. My racket must have caused awareness to my presence for it quieted down a bit.

"Jack?" questioned a feminine voice belonging to a girl named Toothianna. She was an exotic looking girl, with sharp features and hair that you were never quite sure what color it was. She was kind and seemed to genuinely like me so I can't really complain.

Releasing another sigh, I walked into the kitchen where upon each member of the home stood as if I were some sort of royalty. It was just nerves, I knew. I was a delinquent after all, and though I had been staying with them for a couple months, my arrival was still something they were adjusting too.

"Hi," I said formally before turning on my heel and heading for the fridge.

Behind me I heard a very distinct snort belonging to none other than the last person of the three-manned show: E. Aster Bunnymund. I smirked. The moment I showed up on their doorstep, Bunnymund made it his personal mission to dislike me. All the same I guess, seeing as I did not happen to care for him much either. He was too

hot-headed, and that Australian accent really grated on my nerves.

"What's the matter, Bunny? Burn you burgers on the barbie again," I said in my best impression of an Australian accent, turning to face them.

Bunnymund's scowl deepened and he glared a bit venomously. "Oi!"

Toothianna giggled and placed a hand on Bunnymund's arm. "Boys, be kind," she playfully chastised before turning her bright eyes to me. "So, Jack, how was your day?" she asked enthusiastically, leaning slightly forward as if she truly did look forward to hearing my answer.

North, who looked rougher than he actually was, nodded in turn. "Stayed out of trouble, yes," he commented, playing the role of Big Brother quite well.

I rolled my eyes. The phrase "How was your day" was code for "Have you done anything bad or worth reporting and you better not lie boy, cause we'll find out."

I decided to humor them. "Oh you know, ordered a hit, sold some drugs, and invested in illegal firearms. Don't be surprised if a decapitated head in a box shows up on the doorstep."

Toothianna took a sharp and short gasp, looking like she believed me, her eyes flashing with a bit of concern. Bunnymud, on the other hand, seemed to be struggling with the impulse to smack me up side the head. "Don't be cute, ya wanker," he huffed, raising a dark brow.

Rolling my eyes once more, I shut the fridge with a foot. "It was fine. I went to school. I hated it. I came home. That's it. I promise."

To highlight my sincerity, I drug my finger across my chest to make an 'X'. Toothianna smiled a full-feldged toothy smile before sipping from her drink. "Thank you, Jack." she chirped.

"My pleasure," I muttered before exiting the kitchen and heading for the front door.

I heard a chair scrap the tile and the unmistakable large footfalls of North follow me out. "Where are ya heading to, boy," he asked. To anyone else, his words might have seemed harsh and demanding, but I knew North enough to know that under all that gruff exterior, he was kind at heart.

"Out," I explained, slipping my cell phone into my hand. A picture of my little sister shown back from the tiny screen, illuminating my face in the dim hall. She was tiny, sporting waves of brown hair and imitating innocence. I shoved it into my pocket before I could dwell on the onslaught of feelings that came with that picture.

North sighed and held open the door after me. "Stay outta trouble, yes?" he called after me as I hopped down the steps.

I waved him off with a hand—a sort of farewell—and shoved my hands in my pockets. My chilled palm came into contact with the hard plastic of my phone and, against the instinct to leave it there, I pulled it out. The screen was still a lit, shinning like a beacon in the dimming sunlight. My sister smiled out at me.

"I will," I muttered before turning the corner.

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	4. I Should Have Taken That Picture

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**Chapter 3: I Should've Took That Picture**

"I'm tired of the cold, aren't you Elsa? Well I guess not, since you are an ice skater. How can you ice skate? It seems so scary! Have you ever fallen before—have you ever broken something?! I broke my arm once. I fell off a slide, but that was during summer break. I went to the beach for the summer but I had to stay in the shade cause I sunburn very easily. Do you sunburn easily? You are really pale, like a snow flake! Or a snowball! One time—"

My patience was quickly ebbing into the realm of intolerance. This, oddly enough, does not occur in frequent succession. Only in rare times—times divulged from sporadic occurrences that spin out of the small control I cling too. In fact, my entire existence had been loosely based upon this control I have perfected over the course of a life time. Funny enough, there happen to be only two things in this world that caused that control to deviate off its set path; wasted time and Olaf.

Olaf was a wisp of a thing. White blond hair, equally pale skin, and eyes that bore such an intense brown they were practically black. All of eight years old, Olaf had the heart of an elephant. What countered this though, was the nasty habit he had seemed to have developed. He spoke with such rapid intensity that I was led to believe silence was a bit of a foreign objective to him. My present headache would only attested to this observation.

Sill firing off mindless dialog, Olaf jerked in startlement when I interrupted him. "Olaf," I sighed, rubbing my temples briefly before pointing to a simplistic addition problem. "What is 75 plus 9."

Pausing mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open with the broken climax of his story, his dark eyes followed my finger to the problem in question. I watched his smile melt into a scowl which then quickly turned into exasperation. "Uh-one hundred and fourteen," he guessed after a moment of consideration.

I sighed but offered a sympathetic smile before lifting the pencil from his loose grip. "Almost. See," I said, "you have to carry the one and leave the four, which would make the seven an eight."

Olaf blinked, sitting up in his chair in the way only little boys could do and leaning over the paper. "So eighty-four then," he offered, counting on his fingers as if to be sure.

"Very good," I praised, allowing him to write a sloppy eighty-four in the space provided.

Once finished, Olaf set down his pencil and beamed at his work. "All finished! Thanks Elsa," he chirped, holding up the crumpled sheet as if I had no idea the final problem had been completed.

Smiling, I gently took the paper from him and placed it into a rather worn but seemingly loved plastic folder. "You've gotten better. I'm impressed," I complimented while clicking the stack of papers collected there upon the distressed kitchen table.

I have been tutoring little Olaf for three weeks now. At the time, it had only been a one time deal but, I must admit, he sort of grew on me. Now, every Tuesday and Thursday, Olaf comes over to be guided in his third grade studies. I minded little seeing as the routine failed to interfere with my schedule too much.

Olaf pounced from his chair, landing effortlessly onto the slick tile and grinned brightly at me. "I've been practicin'," he announced before pursing his lips in thought. "You know, Elsa, everyone says you're really mean, but they're wrong. You are super nice!"

I paused at this, feeling something close to grief bloom inside my chest like a build up of air. I knew this. I know what they say when I walk down the hallways. Seeing as our school holds all grades, granted the campus has them all separated of course, staring from kindergarten up, I would see how Olaf would pick up on some of the verbal abuse. I knew all of this, and yet it still created a rock sized bundle of emotion to settle at the bottom of my lungs.

'Stop it, Elsa,' I chastised silently to myself. 'They just don't understand'

Rather than allow my feelings to get the best of me, I forced a hoarse chuckle and handed Olaf his backpack. "Why thank you, Olaf. I am pleased to hear I have exceeded your expectations."

He laughed but not for very long, pinning me to the floor with a fierce look only an eight year old could successfully pull off. "I won't let them say bad things, Elsa. I told them that you were super stupendous! Cool word, huh? I learned it today at English class!"

"You learned it today in English class," I corrected, smiling softly as I herded him out the door. Twenty minutes until I had to be at the rink. No questions asked.

Grinning, as if he had discovered the Lost City of Atlantis, Olaf nodded. "That's what I said. At English class! I love English class—hey did you know that you spell Mississippi with four 'S's'? I thought for sure I was spelling it wrong, but I was right! See, I can sure spell swell, all thanks to you! You taught me how to spell summer, which is my most favoritest—

I laughed, cutting him off as I nudged him out the door. "Alright, alright. Now, off you go. See you Thursday, yes," I said, watching him as he skipped down the porch steps. They squeaked and groaned under the sudden weight he provided.

"Huh-huh," he confirmed, hopping excitedly into a small patch of snow. "I'll have more math for ya! See you, Elsa," he added, turning slightly to offer a wave before flitting across the drive and down the sidewalk towards his home.

Smiling, I waited until he made it into his two story, red bricked house and then shut he door hastily. Now I only had fifteen minutes and forty five seconds until I had to be at the rink. My stomach growled but I ignored it as I rushed to replace my comfortable clothes with the more fitting dress I always saved for the ice. No time to eat now; I'll have at least twenty minutes to my self before Anna returns home to indulge myself with the daunting task of eating.

Ten minutes and thirty-three seconds.

I scooped up my bag and sprinted out the door, letting the wood bounce back against the frame twice before it slammed shut. It took only five minutes to walk from my house to the rink—a small luxury I was awarded—leaving five minutes to enter the rink and set up. Time was everything. Even a minute lost could cost me dearly. I mustn't waist valuable time on ridiculous antics.

I was calculating the exact time I would have upon arriving, when I saw him.

It wasn't that he caught my eye or anything, in fact when spotting him I still had immense trouble pinpointing his exact location amongst the snow, and yet there he was. Perched like an owl up in a tree, frowning at the horizon as if it held answers to life most tragic questions, was the boy I spotted hours before. What caught my eye was that luminescent jacket he ridiculously wore. If he was trying to hide, that jacket was only hindering his effort. Nevertheless, his sudden proximity to my path startled me so that I stopped and stared.

I was sure he had not seen me but, with out straying away from the intense stare off with the sun set, he spoke. "A picture might last a bit longer," he murmured.

It was so quiet I almost lost the words to the wind, but the slight smirk fluttering across his pale lips spoke volumes.

A blush attempted at crawling its way up my cheeks, but I pushed it back down and scowled. I should have ignored him and kept walking, I had an unwavering task at hand and he was just a stranger. But something about that holier-than-thou smirk forced words to fly from my mouth. "As if I would want a picture of you. All that would show up would be your ridiculous jacket anyway." I huffed, feeling my cheeks flush at an unfamiliar and uncomfortable rate. My heart sped up and I clenched my fists. I thought the stranger might speak obscenely in response but he only chuckled.

"I happen to like my jacket," he announced jumping with little effort from his perch and onto the ground in front of me. "It completes me." he added admirably, smiling. It wasn't a sweet kind of smile, nor was it a hostile one. It was more of a condescending smirk that left you wondering if you were about to have something stolen off you.

I took a step back and glared, crossing my arms defensively. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, seeing as most people did not draw this type of response from me, but there was something about this strange boy that infuriated me.

"So," he announced when I said nothing, walking a circle about me as if attempting to observe me from all angles. "You come here often," he said, flashing me a curious smirk.

I blinked, shocked by his abruptness, and then sneered. "Is that some sort of pick up line, because it lacked tack." I snapped.

The strange boy awarded me with an amused smirk and chuckled. "Actually, sweetheart, it was a statement. You come here at least twice a day, if not more. I am only wondering why," he pointed out, counting on his fingertips the number two.

At this, I frowned. How did he know that? I hadn't made it a secret, but then again, I had no real friends. "So, what, are you stalking me or something? I have the mind to phone the police, you know," I loosely threatened. I had no real plans to call the authorities and he seemed to know it too.

Grinning, the strange boy began walking off. "Stalking? Don't flatter yourself. Observing from a far distance without your knowledge—?," he broke off, giving me a wicked grin, "—Perhaps."

And with this, he was gone.

It was only after a moment of prolonged, flabbergasted silence, did reality grace me with its presence once again. I felt all flushed and bothered suddenly, as if I had lost something. Pulling up my sleeve, I checked the watch secured around my slender wrist and sucked in a breath. I realized I had lost something. Time.

Two minutes and fifty-six seconds.

I sprinted forward and fumed. How dare he take up my time. It was his fault, being perched up in a tree in such a manner. How utterly childish. What had he set out to accomplish up there? And who was he? I hadn't seen him around school, then again I hadn't really been looking. What did he want with me? Why should I even be considering the possibilities?

"Focus, Elsa," I mumbled under my breath, reaching the rinks doors and pulling it open. "You have a job to do. Get it done."

Immediately the cool of the rink hit my face and I relaxed. I had a job to do. And no one was going to get in my way. Especially not a stupid boy gallivanting up in trees.

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	5. Being Late Does Seem To Have Its Perks

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**Chapter 4: Being Late Does Seem To Have Its Perks**

I was five minutes late, bag-less, and by some stroke of god awful luck, wet. It all happened just as quickly as it ended. Six hundred students and a gargantuan moose of a boy just had to spill his fruity sports drink all over me. Then again, I had played a part in the end result. Who knew tripping down the last step could result in such utter embarrassment. If I hadn't left my bag in class, none of this would have happened.

"Uck," I exclaimed, pulling strands of sticky hair from off my cheeks. My skin felt tacky to the touch and my hair was pitifully lost to the saturation of high fructose corn syrup. I highly doubted I'd ever touch another sports drink ever again.

I was so late. The bus had probably already left with out me. I groaned, turning my heel and begrudgingly made my way back up the very steps that had betrayed me. My only option now was calling my sister. I winced, knowing exactly the wrath that would be drug out and roused into submission. Elsa was polite but serious and no where near the horizon of pleasant company. Our brief interactions were strained and awkward, as if we were both actors who had forgotten their lines. Yeah, that did not sound like a fun option at all.

With a sudden hopeless determination, I broke out into a brisk jog skipping the top step. "Maybe the bus will wait. Mr. Joe totally loves me, he'll wait," I chanted to myself and I pushed my way around another corner. The halls were quiet and empty, only a few straggling students remained most of which seemed to be rather in a hurry.

I increased my stride, before turning the final corner and skidding to a clumsy stop in front of my math class. Mrs. Wheals was sitting at her desk, tapping the end of a pen against her teeth. Our tests which were taken at an earlier date, sat marked up in red next to her outstretched arm. My bag was propped up against her desk. Bingo.

"Oh thank goodness," I gushed, pushing my way into the room. Apparently this had been a bit of a wrong move, seeing as Mrs. Wheals screamed upon my arrival.

It was all I could do not to giggle at her expression, hands on her chest and eyes wide and alarmed. "Oh! Goodness me, Anna dear, you startled me," she gasped, staring at me as if I had grown hotdogs for hands.

I offered an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Wheals. I may have left me bag in class again," I sheepishly admitted, blushing at bit as she rolled her eyes.

"Ah yes. This is becoming something of a habit, dear," she observed, winking as a hand held out my worn bag.

It was a true statement. This wasn't a first time offense. I didn't try to leave my bag in class everyday, I just sort of forget I carry one around. Ugh, it's just so cumbersome to lug around all the time. I think my brain just conveniently forgets I happen to posses one. Even my subconscious hates it.

I reached out to retrieve it when Mrs. Wheals frowned, pursing her lips and running her eyes over me. "Anna, are you…wet," she asked, raising a brow.

"It's a really long story. Promise this is the last time, sorry Mrs. Wheals, gotta run," I rushed, knowing I still had the false hope my bus stuck around.

I grabbed the strap and slung it over my shoulder, spinning on my heel and rushing towards the door. I heard Mrs. Wheals laugh behind me. "That's what you said the last three times," she called to my back as I ran.

Still running, I dug through my bag and fished for my phone. If my bus did happen to leave me stranded, then calling my sister would be my only option. I could walk, that's what Elsa did, but I'd get hopelessly lost seeing as I am directionally challenged. One time I managed to lose my way in a store and wondered around for an hour before I found Elsa who at that time was very angry with me for making her late to her ice time. I knew if I called her, I would experience a similar sensation.

"Where are you phone," I mumbled, jogging awkwardly down that hall. Juggling a book bag and attempting to sprint is not the most graceful thing in the world. I had only just grabbed the small plastic device when a wall jumped out and tackled me to the ground.

"Ah," I cried out, my bag as well as everything inside it falling unceremoniously to the floor. It was a horribly ungraceful fall. My legs were going every which way, sprawled out against the floor in an embarrassingly horrid fashion. "Geeze," I huffed, annoyed at whoever or whatever I ran into. "I was running here. It's incredibly rude to—," I paused when my eyes came into contact at just who I had collided with.

I had seen beautiful men before, granted from a distance but I knew gorgeousness when I saw it. This man was ten times that. I won't lie, I gawked. His hair was deep chestnut brown and a bit mused thanks to our sudden collision. He had forest green eyes and somebody kill me because the man had freckles. He smiled and I was smacked in the face with perfect teeth. He's illegal. Somewhere, somehow, this man is a fugitive.

"I am so sorry," he exclaimed, offering a hand.

I blinked and stared. "I-um-that's- I mean its okay. Totally my fault, haha, I'm a bit clumsy," was my brilliant response as I grasped his hand.

He swiftly and effortlessly pulled me upright and too my feet. Wow he's attractive, I think smiling stupidly at him. His hand is still holding mine in a firm but gentle grasp. A soft smile graces his lips. A second passes, then two, I'm pretty sure we stood there for at least fifteen before he blinked as if startled.

"Oh, um my name is Hans," he rushes out, giving my hand a small shake.

I giggle and raise a brow. "Hans?"

He flushes adorably. "It's a family name."

We are still holding hands and I turn a deep red. His fingers are warm and his palm is flush with my own. "No, that's not-no, I mean it's a good name. I like it. I'm Anna," I stumble, sheepishly smiling.

Hans' eyes widen a bit and he seems to finally take in my appearance. "Wait, you're Elsa's sister, right?"

I frown at him. Not many people placed both she and I in the same gene pool. Granted, we were related but we didnt really look alike. Elsa kept to herself. Most had no idea I even had a sister. Hans seemed to understand my sudden question because he quickly explained. "I saw you two talking and you kind of look alike. I just wondered," he said with a brilliant smile that knocked the wind right out of my chest. He is _so attractive. _

"Are you…wet," he suddenly blurts seemingly fighting back a small smile.

This time I flush as dark as that red sports drink that had collided with my body. Great job, Anna. Running into attractive men looking like a homeless bum covered in goo. Smooth. Real smooth. "I-uh-yeah…some guy spilt his drink on me by accident. I sort of ran into him though, so yeah," I mumble, flushing darker when he laughs.

"Do you run into everyone you meet," he jokes playfully.

I scowl and then notice we are still holding hands. Hans seems to notice as well for he blinks and then blushes, releasing my hand. "Sorry," he mumbles.

I stare at him, still smiling a bit clueless. I had run over plenty of people before this moment and it has always been extremely awkward. This too was awkward but a different kind of awkward. A good kind. It helps that he's so incredibly attractive. That always helps.

Minutes pass, or perhaps hours, and I am suddenly aware my bus is now absolutely for sure gone. I groan allowed. "Dang it," I snap falling back to the floor to retrieve my stuff. Hans joins me, looking a bit confused.

"What's wrong," he asks, handing me my spiral. I find it easy to tell him, this complete stranger, as if I've known him all my life.

"I missed my bus and now I am going to have to call my sister and we all know how that will go down. She'll be so angry at me," I mutter, shoving things into my already full book bag. I should really see to cleaning that out.

Hans made a pleased noise. "Well then I'll take you home," he announced, handing me my phone while winking. "Just promise not to get my car all sticky," he joked.

Completely floored by his abruptness kindness, I flounder. "What? Really cause like you totally don't have to, I mean I am sure you have better things to do—"

He placed a hand on mine, halting my sentence.

"Anna, it would be an honor to take you home," he announced with the most honest, kindness gaze I had ever seen. My heart melted and then took flight in a flurry of electrical pin pricks. I could hardly breathe.

I can't tell you what the ride home was like, nor could I explain how he knew where my house was, all I knew was one simple fact.

I was in love.

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	6. Colliding With Royalty

**Oh goodness, so we apologize for the horrible delay in this chapter, but since it's longer than usual we hope it'll suffice! Who knew school demanded so much? Hahah, writers block didn't help either:) We apologize for any grammar/ spelling mistakes. Anyway, we love to hear your feedback and opinions! Enjoy dears! **

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**Chapter 5: Colliding With Royalty**

The arcade business isn't what it used to be, or at least that's what my boss keeps griping about day in and day out. The job isn't hard and, hey, it has its perks.

"Eat my candy dust!" Jamie grinned as his candy cart whizzed past mine for a spot in the lead. He was nearing the finishing line, from the corner of my eye I could see the eleven year-old boy scoot up in his seat in concentration and determination. "That's three wins, all in a row!" He fist pumped, cheering.

"Yeah well, we'll see how well you do on the next game." I said as he jumped out of his seat to do his ceremonial champion's dance. "Wow, very mature." I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

He childishly stuck his tongue out at me and continued his little routine he had going on there. "Jealous?" He teased.

"Of you?" I scoffed, over dramatically. "Yeah sure."

Jamie was a fun spirited kid who came into the shop almost everyday. Usually, his friends would tagalong as well but today it was just him. In all honesty, he's one of the highlights of my day.

About everyday it seems everyone dismisses me, as I'm not even there. Really, I shouldn't mind. But, when a kid comes in everyday, just excited to play around with you well that can sure brightened up anyone's day.

The bell at the entrance door jingled, signaling another kid making an entrance.

"The counter calls." I notified Jamie as he already switched to another game, nodding his head.

Sauntering up to the counter, I sighed. My job is simple. I'm supposed to be the "guy behind the counter", surveying the store. The moment someone enters that's my cue to be up front. Watching.

Usually, costumers (kids mostly) will go straight to their game of choice.

The kid who came in, however, patiently and excitedly stood before the counter. He looked to be about 7 or 8, with bright blonde hair and real pale skin. About as pale as mine, actually. He had a wide smile stretched across his face, and I could feel the giddiness radiating from him. He bounced on his toes in anticipation.

"Can I help you, kid?" I asked, crossing my arms over the counter and comfortably leaning against it.

"Hi, I'm Olaf, and I'm waiting for Elsa!" He gleefully stated.

I quirked a brow. Elsa? What is he talking about? "Uh, sorry little guy, I don't think there's an Elsa here."

He giggled, shaking his head. "Of course not! She's at the ice skating rink across the street! She's the absolute bestest and prettiest ice skater I've ever seen. Have you seen her? She's my tutor, helps with my homework but she's always ice skating. She doesn't like me waiting there, so I came here!" He rambled right off the bat.

"Whoa," I chuckled. "Slow down there. Does anyone know you're here?" I asked.

His smile faded, which I almost couldn't believe because it seemed that smile was permanently etched to his face. "I forgot to tell Elsa." He sheepishly looked down, cheeks reddening.

I sighed, feeling a bit bad for the overly-enthusiastic boy in front of me. Quickly, I glanced at the time. I was due for my usual fifteen minute break soon, usually I'd spend it playing around with Jamie and his little buds, or when he's not here outside up in a tree. "Tell you what, Olaf, what if I take you over to go tell your friend Elsa, okay? When she knows, maybe I can take you back here so you can wait for here, how's that sound?" I asked.

His diminished smile reformed itself back into its original state. "Oh, yes, please!" He shouted, jumping a little.

I smiled, and nodded. "Okay, let's do that then."

Before leaving, I took one quick sweep of the shop, spotting a few random kids here and there, and Jamie stationed at the new zombie shooter game. "Jamie, man the shop, I'll be back in ten!" I announced.

"Sure thing, Jack!" He responded, preoccupied with the game in front of him.

With all that being said, I looked back down at an anticipating Olaf already at the doors. "Come on!" He excitedly rushed.

"I'm coming," I assured, quickly getting myself to him as he passed through the doors, no longer being able to wait. "Olaf, wait!" I called, and he slowed his skip into a fast paced walk.

"Hurry up, slowpoke!" He giggled, using his arm as a signal for me to move myself along.

I shook my head in amusement and jogged to catch up to the energetic kid.

…

Finally after dodging traffic, we entered the ice rink. Upon entering a blast of warmer air settled around us. It was a bit chilly outside and being an ice rink you'd expect it to be even colder. Oddly enough, this was not the case.

"-and that's Marshmallow. Hi, Marshmallow! This is…what's your name?" Olaf pulled me in more, and I could feel a fresh coldness started to swarm. It was the toasty temperature of the lobby mingling with the brisk chill of the ice.

"My name?" I repeated.

"Yeah, Marshmallow wants' to know your name." Olaf pointed over to the counter, and seated behind was a big, bulky guy. He was built like a…like something big. A building? Anyway, his expression screamed unfazed unamusment.

I'm guessing his name wasn't actually Marshmallow.

"It's Jack, Jack Frost." I answered, probably more to Olaf than to "Marshmallow". Confused at what to do now, I looked to the counter guy. "So, is Elsa around?" I asked.

He raised a questioning brow, but gave a nonverbal answer as he jerked his thumb, pointing to the rink.

I nodded in thanks, and both Olaf and I went over to go find this "Elsa".

It was a simple set up; surrounding the rink were rows and rows of metal bleachers. The rink was surrounded by tall plastic walls. It was your basic ice rink you'd expect to be in any town.

As I surveyed the rink, I noticed there weren't many ice skating participants on it. There were two untrained kids, teetering on the ice as an instructor tried to give some guidance, a man practicing backwards skating, and finally there was a _vision_.

She glided on the ice, almost like she was flying. She had so much grace as her body twirled midair; every move she made was perfect. She bounded and leaped with ease. I was in awe watching her skate like—like a vision. She was exactly that. A vision on skates.

But what else?

This vision—this girl—this was the _very_ same girl who crossed my path just the other day. The one who noticed me in the tree. The one that separated herself from everyone else just to be alone.

The one dubbed as the "Snow Queen".

"I told you Elsa was the bestest." Olaf reaffirmed, and I was a bit surprised to see a bit of a smirk growing on his face. It made me smile at how he was showing her off.

It was obvious Elsa was too invested in her practice to notice she had some…visitors. Maybe the earbuds in her ears were a little distracting too because obviously listening to music is a better use of time than checking your surroundings. "How do we get her attention?" I asked Olaf.

"Easy!" He answered, scampering to the entrance of the rink, opening the door, and going straight on the ice, all the while he had no skates.

"Olaf, careful!" I warned, hurrying over to make sure he didn't get himself hurt. He was making slow progress so he wouldn't slip and fall on the ice, but I could see Elsa quickly approaching, not paying any mind as she was occupied with her skating and music to notice another individual set foot in the rink. "Olaf!" I called again.

Still, he didn't heed my warnings, and I gave a loud sigh, stepping onto the ice and getting over to Olaf as quick as I could. If I couldn't get to him in time, she'd trample right over him. That much was clear. Impulsively, I picked up my feet in an attempt to make it to him before they made an Elsa and Olaf sandwich.

I kept my eyes moving on both individuals. He was going to be in her way in a second and she was just finishing going around the bend.

Now or never.

"Hey!" He cried as I pushed him out of the way, just in time before Elsa slammed right into me and causing us both to crash down, sliding in the process. "Uh…" I groaned, hearing her groan as well.

It took a moment for her to fumble herself off of me. It took another for me to adjust and notice she was talking.

"-was that? What were you thinking? Could you not see me? Are you blind!" She looked at me, annoyed and wide-eyed in shock, expecting an answer from me. Her face then twisted, and she backed up a bit. "I thought you said you _weren't_ stalking me." She said in a defensive and precautionary tone.

I rolled my eyes, carefully picking myself up and dusting myself off.

"Elsa!" Olaf intervened, calling from the spot on the ice he was currently sitting at. "He brought me over so I could tell you I was going to be at the arcade to wait for you!"

I watched her as she looked over to him, and then switch her attention back to me. "Is this true?" she asked, still sounding wary.

"What, you don't believe him?" I wondered.

"No, it's just I don't trust you. Which reminds me." In that moment, she decided I wasn't that important to be bothered with, and she skated herself over to Olaf, privately talking to him as she helped him up. She gingerly got him off the ice, looking concerned as they conversed.

I figured it was a good time to get myself off the ice, and instead of rushing like I had before, I took my time.

…

She took about a minute to finish talking with Olaf before leaving him to be watched by "Marshmallow" and coming over to the rinks seating to interrogate me.

"You can leave now." She said, flatly.

"What?" I was confused. "Is this because you tripped over me?"

She stood with crossed arms, head held high. There was a feeling of regal-ness emanating from her. Something that demanded to be respected. "Just leave." She tersely answered.

I narrowed my eyes, but didn't say anything else. I only got up, on my way out the door. Apparently I had over stayed my welcome. "As you wish, _your highness_." I muttered as I passed her.

"_What_ did you say?" She spat, a bit maliciously you could say.

Slowly, I spun on my heel, the frown I was just wearing transformed into a pleased smirk.

I'm an expert at pushing buttons.

"You heard me." My sly grin deepened as I could see her become more infuriated by the second.

"You think you're _so_ funny, don't you?" She began glaring at me, daring me to come at her with something else.

I shrugged, feeling in my element. Pissing people off is something I was always good at. Really, it just comes naturally. "I have an arcade to tend to; I don't have time to chat right now. We can always continue this later." I winked.

And with that, I stuffed my hands in my pockets, confidently leaving the place, giving a nod to a nervous-looking Olaf. "See you later, buddy."

…

"Jack, dinner's on the table," Thia sweetly notified me as she knocked at my door, left slightly ajar. Apparently Toothiana was too "odd sounding" and "a mouthful", (her words, not mine), so she demanded to be called Thia. This all started yesterday and I've been too tired to put up much of an argument.

Swiveling in my chair, I faced her. "Yeah, I'll be a minute." I answered and then turned myself back around.

Maybe once a week, give or take a little, Thia organizes a mandatory dinner for us all to attend. I don't see any reason in this, it's not like we're family or anything. But, it was best not go against her.

A minute later, I meandered myself down to the dining area of the apartment. Everyone already seemed to be there, a smiling Thia, unfazed North, annoyed looking Aster AKA "Bunny-boy" (because he hates that), and neutral Sandy who I actually don't see as often. I'm still new here, still trying to get myself adjusted.

The whole crew is still very wary of me, and so be it.

Slipping into my seat as inconspicuous as possible, I surveyed to table for today's food choices. I saw fresh rolls, and stretched my hand to grab one before it was lightly swatted away.

"Before we begin, Jack, I think it's fair you tell us about your day." Thia gave her trademark smile, but she sounded a bit…suspicious?

I took a look at everyone, all their eyes watching my a bit more intently than usually. "Uh, what's going-"

"What happened this afternoon?" Bun-bun (he hates that too) interjected, waiting to accuse me of something. His regular go-to-glare was traded in for something more serious.

I was confused. Apparently, they have some notion I've done something wrong. That much was clear. "I don't exactly know what you're getting at here." I honestly answered.

"Oh, _I think you know_." And that was his accusatory voice making its debut.

Heaving an annoyed sigh, I widened my eyes in an irritated manner and shook my head before continuing this conversation.

I also swiped a roll, taking a worthy bite.

"What we're wondering is what happened this afternoon at work. Your boss called saying you abused your allotted break time and you were nowhere near the arcade when he went outside to look for you." Toothiana explained, looking concerned. "Jack, we're here to help you." She carefully patted my arm, hesitantly too, like she was afraid.

But that's when it clicked.

After the ice rink fiasco, I had forgotten all about going back to work. I still had a few hours for the day. "Oh, that, I-"

"No lie." North tersely huffed, obviously disappointed.

Another exaggerated sigh, this was becoming more difficult for me to keep my cool. "If you'll let me explain." One sweep of the crowd, showing no signs of another forthcoming interruption. "Okay. During my break, I helped a kid out." I answered.

"And?" Thia pressed on.

"And what? I walked him across the street to the ice rink to tell his tutor he'd be at the arcade. End of story."

"Well we get_ that_ part of the story. Why didn't you show up at work after?" Bunnymund leaned in, narrowing his already glaring eyes. I rolled mine, already done with all of this.

Before I could answer, my arm was forcibly tugged from, the sleeve to my jacket roughly pushed up. "And this bruise? Or the scratch on your face. Jack, we're you in a fight?" Thia sounded horrified, gasping a bit as she examined my "wounds".

Yanking my arm back, I decided enough was enough. "Not that I'm not loving the interrogation, but-"

"Jack. _Sit._" North commanded in a stern and imposing voice.

I reluctantly did as told, crossing my arms and glaring at my empty plate.

"You know the deal, Frost. One more screw-up and you're out of here." Bunny warned, just as he regularly did.

"Olaf. The kid's name was Olaf. He came to the arcade to wait for his tutor, but nobody knew he was there. I took him on my break to the ice skating rink across the street where his tutor apparently had mandatory everyday lessons. He ran onto the ice with no skates, and I went after him. I pushed him out of the way before she could run into him and she ran into me instead. I forgot about work and walked home after I was "allowed" to leave." I full-fledged answered, taking a deep breath.

There was silence, before I heard a relieved sigh.

"Oh thank god." Thia muttered under breath. Her usual smile was instantly back on her face. "So, this was all about a girl then?"

"What? Where'd you-"

A large pat on my back jerked me forward in my seat and I heard a hearty laugh resonate next to me. "You almost had me, Jack!" North bellowed, his jolly side coming out as the matter at hand didn't seem as skeptical as everyone else had assumed. "So, who is girl?" He gave a subtle smirk, and a not so subtle elbow nudge to go along with it.

"No, there's no girl, Elsa is just his tutor. I don't think you guys-"

"Maybe if you hadn't been_ flirting_, there would've been no trouble at all." the Australian annoyance huffed, still as annoying as ever. Nothing's changed _there._

"Oh, Elsa, she sounds beautiful! Jack, why haven't you mentioned her before?" Thia teased, winking for extra measure. I took a moment to roll my eyes, but it's not like that's anything new I do here around this group of individuals.

The only one who never really interjected his opinion was Sandy, which I was grateful for because I can barely handle three strong personalities. He did, however, share his opinion using sign language and facial gestures. This, as usual, created an uproar of laughs at the table, and I was officially done.

"I'll be in my room." I announced, grabbing on last roll before retreating into my room.

Their taunts carried as I journeyed to my room and weren't hushed until I shut my door, loud enough to make a statement. I rolled my eyes when I could make out them having another round of laughs.

"And I thought them being mad at me was bad enough…" I muttered, heading over to my desk with no real agenda in mind, but then something caught my eye.

My room isn't the..._tidiest_, but I am one to notice when something is even the slightest bit off.

Something was poking our from under my bed, which again is strange because I'm not one to shovel things under my bed anyway. That's what the closest is for. Anyway, taking a closer look, it seemed to be an...envelope? What the hell? Who even uses these dinosaurs anymore?

I bent over to pick it up, thinking it may have been something Toothiana had dropped when she does her mandatory weekly inspections, AKA, check if the Frost kid is stashing any drugs in his drawers or hoarding weapons under his pillow. Funny how that's the first place she checks too.

Back to the envelope currently taken in my hands. It had nothing written on it, and the flap wasn't sealed. Against my better judgement I shrugged my shoulders and decided it wouldn't hurt to look. So, I pulled out the small paper the size of an index card out to read what was on it. Skimming through, my chest tightened and my teeth clenched, my eyes narrowing with every word that followed, leading up to the signature left after "Sincerely,"

I concluded the letter was strategically placed where it was, and I got this unsettling feeling because that meant someone had snuck into the apartment, into my room, going unnoticed by everyone who lived here.

And this particular person wasn't one to _ever _be sincere.

Carefully, I reread the entire letter, stopping at the only "request" it held in the letter.

_**Meet me, December 15th, 7 sharp. You know the place.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

"_Pitch._" The name escaped my clenched mouth with a sound of disgust. I haven't seen him in years, what could he possibly need me for now?

I threw the letter in my trashcan in frustration. I plopped into my swively desk chair with a thud and it spun me a bit in answer to the sudden force. I buried my face in my hands, leaning over.

"NO!" I screamed, "_No..._" I sullenly whispered, shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath.

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	7. Stalking You Just A Little Bit

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**Chapter 6: Apparently, I'm Lost**

It's been a couple days since the ice rink encounter with that strange boy who somehow keeps showing up places I least expect him.

Ever since then, Its as if he's following me. I see him in the halls, walking outside from the cafeteria during lunch, after school on his way to the arcade. He's everywhere. Except _he_ doesn't seem to pay me any mind.

I guess I might've scared him from our last…squirmish? Can I call it that even? I don't know, and I've finally decided that I don't care.

Olaf's not allowed anywhere near the arcade, only for his protection. I've conversed with his parents on the matter, and although they're all "happy-go-lucky-he's-a-kid-let-him-play", I've asked him to do me that one favor.

Stay away from this Jack Frost.

The name humorously fits his style. Pale skin, blue eyes, the obviously died white hair. Not that I care to point out his brown roots, but they're there I've seen them! Not that I'm paying extra close attention to him or anything, but when you crash into someone, getting a face full of hair, you tend to notice these things.

My minds never veered off many times. It's usually so focused and concentrated, mostly on ice skating. But now?

_Now?_

Now he's practically plagued my mind. Even when I don't see him in person, he's in my head like an annoying catchy tune. The kind that no matter how much music you listen to to push it out, it keeps coming back.

Whatever. I have better things to think about, which I try to remind myself, even though it always leads back to him. I just need to occupy myself. A distraction.

Right now, I was sitting at my usual spot in the cafeteria, a chocolate milkshake in my personal blue plastic to-go cup. I had a book in hand, but honestly I've been skimming through pages. I didn't even know what I was reading.

My eyes would continue to sneak glances at the large and over decorated windows that showcased the quaint outside quad were few stone tables, a feeble broken fountain, and a handful of trees sat.

He was one stuck in the middle of it, leaning against the tree, head knocked back, eyes shut and mouth slightly agape. It seemed he was sleeping.

I felt a smile try to make an appearance on my face, and I let it happen. I continued to stare. long and hard, only to stop when he shook his head and let those bright eyes pop open.

Breaking out of that temporary trance, I scowled and allowed myself to be drug back into reality. Get a grip Elsa. Honestly, I was losing my mind. He was just a boy for goodness sakes. I had seen plenty of boys. Talked to them even. What made him so different? Seething, I violently slammed my book shut and earned a few stares. My small audience grew as I popped up out of my seat and began a fast paced strut through the center of the cafeteria to any place else where Jack Frost couldn't be in my line of vision.

I could feel people staring, which made me feel self-conscious, but I just held my head even higher and continued on without a doubt or trip in my step.

Finally I was able to breath after I broke from everyone's gaze. I leaned onto the wall for support, and prayed that all this would be over finally and everything could just go back to normal, like before.

Everything seemed so much simpler then, and that was just a few weeks ago.

Who knew it only took one person to cause so much damage and turn your whole world upside down. He was just one boy. I needed to get a grip.

…

I sat on the cold metal bleachers, overlooking the empty ice rink.

It's really difficult to concentrate on ice skating when my mind is running like crazy. Really, I feel like I'm going to go mad soon. My stomach twists every time Jack appears in my mind, which unfortunately has been happening so often now.

Only a few encounters and now everything is out of balance. I'm leaning forward in my seat, my legs bouncing in anticipation like I can't wait for something.

Biting my lip, I take a look at my watch. I was aware that this happened to be my twenty-seventh time checking. Not that i was counting or anything. I groaned. It's only been two minutes since my last glance.

I heaved a frustrated sigh, running my hands through my thick, pale-blonde hair. It was down today which happened to be a very seldom sight. I just didn't have any time to ready myself this morning.

"What is wrong with me?" I whispered, my face in my hands. I was so lost, I had no idea what to do or how to fix anything because I don't even know what's wrong. I just feel so…off. How do you fix that? Obviously I don't know.

"Elsa, I'm going out for coffee." Marshal announced, giving me the "Watch the rink" look he does occasionally. I nodded, waving a goodbye as he slipped out the door.

I was officially alone now so if I needed to, I don't know, scream out my frustrations, I could easily do so.

So I did…well, I tried too. I'm not one to let go like that, I try to keep everything in. It's easier that way, or at least that's what I've come to believe.

Another glance at the barren ice, the floor that should be used by me at this moment until the dark of the night. I didn't even have a desire to step on it today.

If this keeps going on, I'll be behind on my practice time. I might even have to skip a day of school to make it up.

***buzz***

I snapped my attention to my buzzing bag that rested on the bench next to me, holding my phone.

The only people that called or texted was Anna, which only happened when she notified me she'd be out, or Olaf's mom telling me to reschedule a day or he'd be missing a session.

Looking at my glowing screen, I saw it was Anna. She explained she'd be at the mall with a friend and that I'd need to get myself dinner since she wouldn't be home until late. I replied with an "Okay.", and stuffed the device back into my bag.

It was Friday, I could afford to miss at least one day of school to make up a few hours of practice.

So with that hefty decision, I lifted from my seat, slinging my bag onto my shoulder and headed to the doors. I left a quick note for Marshal on the counter and left. The coffee shop was just down the street so I'm sure it wouldn't be that big a deal.

Stepping outside, I took a big breath of the clean, crisp air swirling around me in a frosty cloud. My magenta peacoat felt a little too toasty for me, even in this chilly weather, but I just shrugged and ignored the stuffy feeling. I could have taken off my trademark teal gloves but it paired nicely with my outfit so I thought against that too.

Just as I was about to head in the general direction of my home, I spotted _him_.

Oh yes, you know _exactly_ who I'm talking about.

His blinding white hair was enough to give him away, not just that ridiculously bold blue jacket he wore everyday of his existence.

He was entering the arcade, set right across the street from the rink. Something I never really cared about before, but now I found I absolutely despised. My face twisted like I had a bitter taste in my mouth and I found I was developing one the more I observed him.

He continued being that catchy, awful song that I couldn't get out of my head, no matter what I did.

I crossed my arms in a huff attempting to decide what to do at this point.

Now, I'm not an impulsive person. Not in the slightest. This really shouldn't be hard but with me being so out of it lately, I wasn't surprised at what I ended up doing.

…

The arcade had a cozy and light aura encompassing it.

It wasn't crowded, a few kids here and a few there. It wasn't too extravagant, it was painted a dark blue with a multitude of games stationed anywhere there was room. There was a front counter but the seat at the desk was empty.

I surveyed the area a little more looking for _you know who_.

It took a minute for me to finally spot him at the far end of the quaint little establishment.

He was…different in this environment. For one thing, he was laughing and smiling—a genuine smile. Not the little sly smirk he likes to present me. He was enjoying himself, and not alone too. There was a smaller boy with him, looking to be having just as much fun.

I was frozen there, going unnoticed by every in here which was just perfectly fine. I'd really rather it stay that way, but I was standing out in the open like an idiot so most likely it won't last long.

The next thing I needed to consider was a valid reason for me being here.

I don't play video games, which would be the only reason one would have to come here. It's not like I can explain I came here because I needed to see _you know who_. I watched —with an enormous load of horror—as he glanced up, meeting my eye.

This was a mistake. This was a really, really bad idea. I immediately regret this decision. There now was no possible way I could slip out and go unnoticed.

Deciding I had just better leave now, I spun on my heel reached for the door. don't get me wrong, I had every intention of exiting at that point in time but a familiar voice called out I froze, cringing.

"Elsa?"

Damn.

Swallowing, I refused to move. I couldn't if i tried. It was funny, seeing that I began to convince myself he wouldn't see me as long as I didn't move. That was illogical and childish of course.

Man, I _am_ going mad.

"Yeah?" I croaked, still facing the other way. I had no intention of turning around and seeing that knowing smirk on his face.

"What are you doing?" His voice was closer. A lot closer. Like he was right behind me, closer.

I turned my head just a bit and I could see him a few inches away, still approaching me.

"_Oh god._" I muttered under my breath.

He came around me, facing me.

And just like I said, the smirk was already placed on his face. "Elsa?"

"What?" I spat back a bit too bitterly.

He raised a brow, his teasing grin growing just a hint. "Want to tell me why you've decided to _grace_ me with your royal presence?"

I rolled my eyes, making it known I didn't particularly enjoy his humor. His eyes gleamed with mirth as i narrowed my eyes and glared.

He gave in, chuckling a bit before he crossed his arms. "Okay fine. Let me try again, can I help you?"

Sighing, I rattled my head for some relevant and believable answer. Or just anything really because I wasn't about to admit I came in to see him. Well, more like observe him at a closer distance, but same thing. "I was-"

"_Wait just a minute_." He gasped, narrowing his eyes with what I could only assume was false shock and horror. "Are you _following_ me?"

I scoffed. "Excuse _me_? Why on earth would I _follow_ you?"

"You're here, aren't you?" He noted.

"Are you that full of yourself? People don't come here to see _you_, Jack." I stalled myself for a moment, recognizing the fact that was the first time I used his name aloud.

And then I inwardly kicked myself. Really Elsa, are you seriously thinking about that?

"You expect me to believe you came here to play some games?" He slightly chuckled, shaking his head a bit. "I'm not dumb, Elsa."

A scrunched my face in irritation. "Well don't be too quick to assume, as a matter of fact I _did_ come to play some games."

What the _hell_ just left my mouth?

His eyes widened, eyebrows raised in disbelief. Honestly, my facial expression probably wasn't much different, I could barely believe my own words. Although he snapped out of it a second later, his smirk creeping on his face.

"Really now? Well, I'll tell you what. If you really are here to play, why don't you come race me?" He had a triumphant expression splattered boldly across his face as if he had already won.

I bit my lip, deliberating. What I should actually be doing is escaping this infernal place and never look back. "_Fine_." I huffed, or growled actually.

My mouth was literally betraying me.

"Great." He spoke in a shifty tone, which concerned me a bit.

I had no idea what I just got myself into. This is possibly the dumbest thing I've ever did, and the dumbest I've ever felt.

Today is just _not_ my day.

…

I saw in the red plastic seat, looking at the screen with lots of hesitation. I gripped the wheel, distracted by the vibrant colors that continued to flash onto the screen and music blasting from god knows where.

Confused. I was utterly confused, nothing else could describe me at this moment.

"I'm gonna win, just a heads up." Jack added.

I didn't respond, still trying to comprehend why I was even in this predicament right now.

Numbers started counting down from the screen, followed by the cartoon characters shouting along with it over the music and sounds of engines.

"10, 9, 8, 7..." My hands clasped the wheel more tightly in anticipation, and I had my foot on the single pedal the game had to offer. "6, 5, 4..." I could hear a conversation to my left, knowing it was Jack chatting casually with the kid he was just before playing with. "3, 2, 1!"

I slammed the pedal down, not letting up as I tried my best to control the faulty and ridiculous steering this game had. This thing is harder to drive than an actual car, believe me.

My cart was moving sporadically across the track, continuously getting passed up by other carts, which was no surprise for me.

"Elsa, you can't steer so drastically." An unfamiliar voice coached, and from the corner of my eye, I saw it was the little boy that was previously talking with Jack. He had a wide smile on his face, a look of pure excitement.

For me?

Who knows. I focused back on the game, taking the advice of the boy since obviously he knew what he was talking about.

"Jamie, you _traitor_." Jack announced, and I had to crack a smile at that.

My cart began moving on the track more fluidly, not running into the rails like at the beginning. "Thanks, Jamie."

"Yeah, I just like it when Jack loses." He taunted, grinning from ear to ear. Egging Jack on seemed to be his priority.

All that came from Jack were annoyed huffs and betrayed-sounding mutters as he continued racing.

I was still in last place, but I didn't mind. Winning immature games like these are not things listed on my bucket list.

About another minute passed when Jack jumped from his seat, cheering.

"WINNER!" The game announced, and on my screen the word "LOSER" was displayed.

"You'll get him next time, Elsa." Jamie reassured me, patting my shoulder.

I shrugged, sliding out of the seat. "Well, I'm gonna go now. That's enough for one day." I declared.

Jack minimized his victory cries and looked at me. "Sore loser?" He teased.

"No, I just have other things to tend to." I said matter-of-factly.

He rolled his eyes, propping an elbow on the back of the game chair. "Like what, ice skating? You do that everyday, I don't see-"

"Bye, Jack." I cut him off quickly, not wanting to get into that conversation or any other for that matter. I seriously needed to get out of here and the sooner the better. Mostly because my head and judgment were finally clearing up to the point I could make myself leave.

I didn't waste anytime turning around and striding for the glowing red exit sign. My saving grace, I hoped.

"Hey, hold on." A felt a warm hand wrap around my forearm, tugging me back a little.

"What?" I yanked my arm out of his light grasp to which didn't seem to faze him, as if he was used to it.

"I'm sorry if I offended you." He apologized.

Whoa. Wait, apologizing for offending me? Because he asked me to play? Because he won? I blinked blankly at him, the stretch silence becoming increasingly awkward. Despite not understanding how he thought he could have offended me, my mind was still trying to accept the fact that he was even apologizing. It didn't seem to be his strong point.

"Oh, uh, no you're, um, fine." I quickly answered. "But I really need to leave."

I couldn't get out of there fast enough, my head spinning in a thousand different directions. I had been having fun. Playing some kids game in some stuffy arcade with an insufferable boy who was only distracting me for what I deemed important. Fun. I couldn't remember the last time I had let myself have...fun. Weeks, months, years it seemed. And to top it all off those butterflies in my stomach were beginning to form again. Damn. What was I doing? What was he doing? I groaned, skidding to a halt and letting my head fall forward.

_What did you just get yourself into, Elsa?_

* * *

**Shorter chapter than last, but we still hope you enjoy this one just as much! Thanks for reading, we really appreciated it!**

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